


A Pretty Good Bad Idea

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Combeferre POV, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Minor Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Roadtrip, Wedding Reception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: No one could remember what dare had sent Enjolras and Grantaire out onto the streets of Las Vegas last night but they could all agree on one thing: they hadn’t dared them to go get married—which is exactly what the two of them did.;;Or: the time they decided that a road trip from Las Vegas to the Grand Canyon would be agreatidea.





	A Pretty Good Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this was “never fuck with a hungover Combeferre because he’s Mean.mp3”. The title is from the musical Waitress. Also forewarning, it’s mostly set in a Vegas hotel/car/rest stops.

Combeferre pushed himself up groggily. His head still swam with whatever the hell he had drank the night before. Rubbing his sore neck, he glanced down to his particularly uncomfortable pillow—Jehan’s stomach. His floral crop top had been pushed up at some point during the night and Combeferre could see dark bruising on his left side. The younger man didn’t stir as Combeferre sat up and leaned against the couch. He shut his eyes for a moment to regret the amount of shots he had done (he vividly remembered doing at least three after his Last Shot) and then opened them to take stock of the room. Jehan was on the floor—the bruise didn’t worry him, it just looked like it was going to be sore—Éponine was on the couch behind him with Feuilly. Cosette and Marius were asleep against the wall in a way that screamed of sore necks. Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet were on the bed. The chair was empty and unless someone was stuffed behind the couch or between the bed and the wall, that’s all who was here. Which meant…

Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Enjolras and Grantaire were missing.

The likelihood they were either in jail or the A&E was close to ninety five...maybe ninety eight percent. Combeferre rested his head against the couch cushion and maybe Éponine’s arm—he couldn’t really tell and didn’t want to check. That’s when he noticed the voices in the bathroom.

“Yeah but did they ever come back from the dare?” Courfeyrac asked and Combeferre groaned—of all the things to overhear, it had to be the one thing he had to investigate. He pushed himself up and made his way into the bathroom. Courfeyrac leaned on the sink and Bahorel sat on the edge of the tub. Bahorel was a welcomed surprise.

“You alright?” Bahorel asked cautiously, eyeing the distance between himself and the toilet.

Combeferre put a hand on his shoulder and stretched his neck. “Depends on where Enjolras and Grantaire are.”

“They went out on a dare and we don’t think they ever came back.” Courfeyrac’s voice was tired but still slightly amused. 

“What kind of dare?”

Bahorel lifted his arms at his sides and Courfeyrac gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“I think R left his phone in his bag. Which should be in the other room.” Jehan spoke quietly but it still made all three of them flinch.

“Sorry.” Combeferre said automatically, knowing his moving was the thing that woke him up.

Jehan shrugged, “It’s alright, I should have picked a better blanket.”

“You two were cute cuddled up like that though.” Courfeyrac smiled, his nose crinkling up.

Combeferre ran a hand through his hair, “I should get Grantaire’s phone.”

“I’ll go with you.” Courfeyrac immediately offered, “maybe they’re in the other room as well.” 

“Me too.”  Jehan’s voice was quiet and he didn’t look up from the floor.

“You sure? You look a little green.” Bahorel looked ready to spring out of the way of the toilet, which begged to ask why the hell he and Courfeyrac were the first ones awake in the first place. Both looked fine though, so really it wasn’t one of his top concerns.

“I’ll be fine.” Jehan responded dryly.

 

* * *

Combeferre loved his friends. He really did. When they started the night, Combeferre had led them in shots. He and Musichetta had serenaded no less than four Elvis impersonators. He was fun. And he loved his friends. But  _ goddamn  _ was he going to murder Enjolras and Grantaire.

Background:

The first time they met Grantaire, Enjolras had pointed him out in a whisper, sounding more like a stereotypical love struck teenage girl then the nineteen year old university student he was. Combeferre had tried to figure out who his friend was talking about, but it had taken Enjolras dragging him over towards Grantaire for him to realize just who in the bar had captured his friend’s attention. The two then proceeded to get into such an argument they were kicked from the bar. They continued arguing down the street, Combeferre trailing behind them torn between if what he was doing was making sure neither murdered the other or some sort of voyeurism. Eventually Grantaire went one way and they went another and  _ eventually  _ they stopped shouting at each other as they walked away. 

The next morning he thought that maybe it was a one time thing.

_ Wrong _ .

When he finally dragged himself out of his room, Enjolras was sitting on the kitchen counter, furiously pounding away at his phone and muttering about the absurdity of moral nihilism. Combeferre had known then and there that he had just witnessed love at first sight and carefully alerted Courfeyrac that he may or may not be crashing on his couch in the near future.

That had been four years ago.

Four. Years.

Enjolras was like the younger brother Combeferre never wanted, but he had been ready to lock the both of them in the closet until they worked things out for the past year. The only reason he hadn’t was because Courfeyrac had threatened that he’d  _ ruin things _ for them if he forced them to do anything. Combeferre loved Courfeyrac fiercely but when his voice got shrill, it took everything to not roll his eyes. 

“You have that look on your face,” Jehan informed him evenly from where he had taken a seat on the couch and was doing absolutely nothing to help them locate Grantaire’s bag in the second hotel room, “the one you get when you think about how stupid we all are.”

The room was a bit of a mess, Cosette had clothes scattered across most of the couch and table and someone had constructed a surprisingly durable mini-fort out of brochures and her makeup on the coffee table. “I don’t think you’re all stupid.”

“Of course you do. You think it in the way everyone does, that, if only the world was more like you, we wouldn’t have these problems.”

“It is true I never vanished on a dare.”

“Yet.” Jehan told him cryptically, his expression carefully serene. Sometimes Combeferre couldn’t tell what he was thinking and out of all his friends, Jehan scared him the most. He had told him on several occasions and Jehan took it as a compliment. 

“Shut up you two, they’re in here.” Courfeyrac whispered from the other room and Combeferre and Jehan shared an incredulous glance before they went to stand next to him in the doorway to the bedroom.

The two men were curled up around each other, Grantaire tucked under Enjolras’ chin, blond hair covering most of his face.

Thank fuck. No one was imprisoned or injured.

Relief quickly turned into aggravated anger, just because there was a pounding in his head, his neck ached and he had been  _ worried _ . And because they were in bed together which really only meant more headaches for him when they inevitably fell into their well-worn trap of miscommunication. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Combeferre blurted out and Jehan gave a little gasp and covered his ears. Courfeyrac turned to glare at him and, really, Combeferre wasn’t the one who should be on the receiving end of that glare.

Enjolras and Grantaire continued to sleep soundly. They were very cute, yes,  but he had been prepared to search every last prison in Las Vegas with a hangover for them.

“Guys we have a problem.” Jehan pointed to the hand resting on Grantaire’s side. They were both wearing clothes, thank god for small miracles. 

Wait—was that--?

“Is that a wedding band on Enjolras’ hand?”

“Grantaire’s wearing one too.” Courfeyrac informed them in a gleeful whisper.

“I need coffee.” Combeferre grabbed both Jehan and Courfeyrac’s hands and dragged them from the hotel room.

Neither man said anything during the walk back to the other hotel room. The door was held open by the latch so Combeferre just pushed his way inside.

Most everyone was awake or at least seventy percent conscious by now which was more than he had thought possible given that it was still only half nine in the morning.

“Combeferre.” Bahorel’s voice was hesitant, “Have you killed someone?”

“What?” Combeferre asked, looking up at him. 

“Courfeyrac and Jehan look shell shocked and you look murderous.”

“I’m seriously regretting befriending the little mop of a kid with a broken leg when I was younger.”

Courfeyrac gasped from where he had crouched down to see to Marius. “Excuse me— _ I _ had the broken leg,  _ Enjolras  _ had the broken arm.”

“Whatever I’m seriously regretting befriending him. Do we have coffee?”

“Feuilly and Cosette went to get some.”

“I always did like them best.”

“ _ Have _ you killed someone, Combeferre?” Joly’s voice came from the bed in the other room. Combeferre couldn’t see him but he was pretty sure the lump under the sheets was him and Musichetta—he could see some of her curls poking out from under the comforter.

Jehan opened his mouth to speak but then put a hand to his mouth and briskly walked to the bathroom. He shut the door purposefully and turned the fan on.

“Combeferre.” Bahorel prompted. 

“No I haven’t killed anyone. It’s just too early to deal with this. Where’s Bossuet?”

“Tucked between the bed and the wall.” Musichetta’s voice replied. “He said he was comfy so we just let him be.”

“I’m going to check on Jehan.” Courfeyrac whispered and then vanished into the bathroom.

Éponine smirked like she knew something the others didn't but Combeferre wasn't even going to think about that now. He was too busy preparing for damage control. Enjolras and Grantaire were friends, and good ones at that. The problem was they kept missing each other as if their brains were hellbent to always run parallel and never intersect.  

Feuilly and Cosette pushed the door open, effectively pulling him from his thoughts. Both carried trays lined with coffee mugs, reusable and not. “There you are.” Cosette smiled at Combeferre. She set her tray down and handed him his giant thermos.

“Did you empty the coffee?” he asked in amusement. 

“Yeah but Feuilly carried out a new one.”

“I thought you were buying coffee.” Bahorel frowned, leaning back. 

“And ignore the perfectly fine free coffee in the lobby?”

“Maybe next time send someone who didn’t grow up below the poverty line?”

“Thank you Feuilly and Cosette—the very best of us.”

“Oh my god, you’re still drunk.” Cosette laughed. 

“I’m going to be drunk for  _ weeks  _ after this.”

Cosette held up Jehan’s reusable mug and glanced around the room trying to find him amongst their friends.

At this, Bahorel asked, “Are Courfeyrac and Jehan in the shower?”

“The water’s on.” Bossuet replied from where he was still wedged, although given how Musichetta and Joly were tugging on blankets that were trying to pull away from them, Combeferre thought he was trying to free himself.  

“I know the water’s on that’s why I asked.”

“Huh.” Bossuet sighed as he finally managed to worm his way out from between the bed and the wall. “So is that a thing that happened last night or right now or what?”

“It’s too early. Let’s just not acknowledge it until they tell us.”

“You know what? I saw this coming actually.” 

“ _ Let’s not acknowledge it until they tell us _ .” Combeferre repeated sharply and then immediately covered his eyes with his hand and sighed as Bahorel and Bossuet shared a smirk. 

“Did someone bring breakfast?”

“I’m never eating again.” 

Combeferre sat down and leaned back in the chair, glaring over the rim of his travel mug at the entire country. America had been a bad idea. Next time they were going to Reykjavik. Jehan and Feuilly would be happy with the midnight sun and northern lights, they’d chance Bossuet at the lava fields. They’d go puffin watching and Bahorel could scuba dive and no one would drunkenly get married. 

Sure, they’d probably lose Grantaire and Joly on a bar crawl and Courfeyrac would probably beg them to go on a whale watching tour and then scream in fear if he saw one and Enjolras would spend the entire trip either sea sick or waiting for them on shore and depending on who stayed with him, that could be potentially catastrophic but at least no one would have gotten drunk married. 

Right?

Combeferre grabbed his phone and started googling Icelandic marriage laws.

The bathroom door opened with a rush of steam and Courfeyrac emerged, his curls plastered to his head, an almost too small hotel towel wrapped around his waist. Combeferre looked back down and, yep, Iceland was going to be their next vacation. 

“Did you take a shower with Jehan?” Bossuet asked and Combeferre could feel his eyes on him so he ignored him. 

Courfeyrac didn’t answer, just waggled his eyebrows suggestively and headed straight for his bag.

Jehan emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later looking better than he did all morning. He had a towel wrapped around himself and one piled on top of his head. Éponine glared at him knowing that hotel towels were already limited and she's probably end up having to use a damp one. 

“There’s tea in your mug.”

Jehan gasped, “You’re incredible. Thank you so much.”

Courfeyrac proceeded to get changed in front of everyone, none of whom so much as blinked at the sudden sight of his bare ass, and Jehan just sat down on the couch to sip his tea. 

Musichetta suddenly emerged from the blankets, grabbing her bag and making a beeline for the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower next.” 

“Hurry!” Cosette told her, glancing to the clock. 

“I’ve already asked for late check-out, don’t worry.” Feuilly told her as Musichetta shut the door. 

Éponine picked up Marius and dragged him over to the bed where they both climbed under the covers with Joly who welcomed them with a small, tired cheer. 

Combeferre caught the moment Feuilly scanned the room and his eyes went wide, “Where’s Enjolras?”

“Oh fuck—and Grantaire—shit I actually thought he was with Marius.” Bossuet swore, pushing himself to his feet. 

At that, whispering started up by the Marius-Éponine-Joly pile and then Éponine asked, “Bossuet, did they ever come back from the dare?”

“We don’t think so.” Bahorel said slowly, looking at Combeferre, Jehan and Courfeyrac carefully. Courfeyrac still had his back to everyone, Jehan slipped into the bathroom to change and Combeferre continued to glare at America as he tried to use coffee to chase away his headache. 

“Oh god so you’re telling me they’re out in the city alone somewhere?” Bossuet raced to the window like hopefully he could see them walking back. 

“No they’re—“ Combeferre’s cell phone went off alerting him to a new text and he looked at his phone like a man condemned to the gallows. He drew in a deep breath before speaking. “Enjolras wants to know where everyone is.” Courfeyrac snorted and then buried his head into Jehan’s still wet hair as he reemerged and sat down next to him. 

“Ask him where the hell  _ he  _ is.” Bossuet demanded, leaning against the window now, glancing suspiciously to something in the courtyard. 

“He’s in the other hotel room with Grantaire.”

Someone in the Marius-Éponine-Joly pile squeaked and Bahorel laughed loudly, earning glares from Courfeyrac and Feuilly and a distressed pout from Jehan. 

“Is that where you went before?” Feuilly asked from overtop his coffee. 

“Yeah.” Courfeyrac grimaced, “They didn’t sleep together but it’s bad.”

“Did one of them get a tattoo?” Bossuet didn’t even try to hide the gleeful tone in his voice.

“No, you’ll see.”

Two and a half minutes later, Combeferre’s least favorite friends of the day sauntered through the doorway. Enjolras was a little grumpy at being apparently left out and Grantaire was still off-kilter from waking up next to (wrapped up in) Enjolras, but other than that they were in exceptionally good moods.

Which meant…

They hadn’t fucking noticed the rings on their fingers yet. They had fucking showered, got dressed, and meandered over to the other hotel room--which was all the way across the goddamn floor--and they hadn’t fucking noticed the piece of shit metal on their goddamn ring fingers yet.

Bahorel sent Combeferre a confused glance that Combeferre ignored for the time being.

“Is that R?” Joly called, voice muffled. 

“Joly?” Grantaire called, looking around the room, “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

“We found the ring last night.” Bossuet deadpanned as Joly grumbled, “Met Penguin.”

Marius mumbled something to which Joly replied, “No, the Batman villain do you really think if we had met penguins last night they wouldn’t be with us right now?” Marius mumbled something else and Joly made a noise of agreement, “Are there penguins in the shower?”

“Sadly no, Pontmercy. Just Musichetta.”

Grantaire still looked unsure as to where Joly was but he zeroed in on breakfast and immediately went for it. 

“Why were you two in the other room alone?” Bossuet asked, sprawling out on the chair on top of Combeferre who did his best to ignore him. 

Enjolras immediately broke out into a blush that could have meant a thousand things but probably just meant  _ oh god i woke up in his arms I hope I didn't drunkenly demand to snuggle.  _

Bossuet laughed and shared a gleeful glance with Courfeyrac. Combeferre stared straight ahead and Bossuet booped his nose. 

Enjolras grabbed some coffee and Grantaire went to lay down with Joly, Éponine, and Marius. 

“You okay, Pontmercy?” 

Combeferre could only hear a faint mumbling and Joly laughing in response. 

After several minutes, Bahorel wandered over with another cup of coffee for Combeferre, “I don’t get it. What’s wrong?”

“Just wait for it.” He told him, trading cups and taking a long sip. 

Bossuet sung under his breath and Bahorel narrowed his eyes, “yeah but wait for what?” 

“Oh you’ll know when they realize.” 

Bossuet broke off his singing to mutter, “ _ Jesus Christ.”  _ under his breath but then he reached out towards Feuilly who threw a pancake at him. Bossuet rolled it up, held it between his fingers like a cigar and took a bite of it. 

Éponine crawled out from the covers and took one of the danishes before sitting next to Cosette on the couch. 

Feuilly wandered over to the other hotel room, showered and then wandered back. 

Bossuet finally got off his lap and took a shower alone when he couldn’t yet rouse his boyfriend. 

Grantaire dragged himself from the bed and began packing up this things in between bouts of criticizing the hotel’s breakfast ‘croissants’ (he had to pause what he was doing because of the heavy use of air quotes). 

Courfeyrac and Jehan fell asleep against each other and then woke up as Bahorel was filming them, narrating the scene like David Attenborough. 

Combeferre was glaring at Enjolras when he noticed and it was a sweet sort of satisfaction. He gave a little involuntary yelp of surprise and got very, very pale. He put his coffee down and glanced around the room. He glanced to both Courfeyrac and Feuilly’s hands and Combeferre suppressed the urge to scream. He had woken the fuck up tangled up in Grantaire and he’s looking to see if he accidentally married Courfeyrac or Feuilly. When he opened them, Enjolras was trying to see his own hands and Combeferre just sort of lost it. “It’s Grantaire.” He snapped, making the entire room jump. Jehan moaned and buried his head in Courfeyrac’s lap. Joly and Marius had apparently been startled awake, if the flailing sheets were anything to go by. 

Grantaire himself just froze, horror struck. “What did I do? Honestly I don’t remember much of last night at all.”

Combeferre lifted up his hand as if to showcase a ring and the color drained from Grantaire’s face even before he glanced down to his hand to see the ring. He instantly looked to Enjolras who twisted his mug around so that Grantaire could see the ring on his finger. “Oh my god.” Grantaire whispered.

“Wait, what are you going on about?”

“Enjolras and Grantaire got married last night.” Courfeyrac said gleefully before Combeferre could spit the words out.

From under the covers Joly sputtered and then broke out into hysterical laughter, drawing Marius in instantly.

“Excuse me?” Cosette’s voice took on a sharp tone, one eyebrow raised high.

“I—uh.” Grantaire began and Enjolras just sat there as Joly and Marius continued to laugh. Bahorel looked like he was about to join them but Feuilly and Musichetta were concerned. Bossuet, Cosette and Éponine appeared totally unsure of what to think. Courfeyrac and Jehan just looked tired. Enjolras gave another tiny little squeak and then his face turned bright red almost instantly.

“Are you okay?” Courfeyrac asked and Enjolras squirmed for a second before saying, very quietly.

“I just remembered something.”

Joly and Marius started giggling again and Grantaire shut his eyes, “Do I want to know?”

“The Taco Bell.”

Grantaire’s eyes shot open and a blush overtook his cheeks as well. “Shit—ah—uhm.” His mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to find something to say. “So, ah. Yeah I remember probably most of it. Well up until Persephone appeared.”

“Same. So. Uh. That is. I was—“

“Drunk.”

“No. Telling the truth.” Enjolras said very quickly, sounding absolutely mortified, and the room got very still.

“I was too.” Grantaire added just as quickly, painfully aware of his friend’s attention.

“Right. So.” Enjolras glanced down at his ring.

“Yeah.”

“Did you two confess your love in a Taco Bell?”

Enjolras’ silence caused Joly and Marius to emerge from their nest, Joly took one look at Enjolras’ beat red face and started giggling again.

“I hope it was an elegant,  _ I really like you like a lot _ .  _ You’re so great _ .”

Grantaire weakly laughed, “Oh my god were you there too?”

“Shut up. I take it back.”

“Too late,  _ husband _ .”

Enjolras glared at him and Grantaire returned the glare full force. Joly was still laughing, wiping at his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. He looked like this was the best day of his life and Combeferre was glad he was so entertained by all of this. He was Grantaire’s best friend. Sooner or later he’d have to deal with the invertible mess that was to follow. At least Bossuet was being quiet so maybe that meant he understood the severity of this.

“What did we dare you to go do?”

Grantaire shrugged.

“Tighty whitey Wednesday?”

“It’s Sunday. Karaoke?”

“Hit up Caesar’s in a toga?”

“Why wouldn’t we be there? No, it had to be a pickup. They had to bring something back.”

“What if we were testing how Grantaire’s ability to find the best places to eat worked in America?”

“I  _ am _ starving.” Bahorel said and Cosette threw a croissant at his face without missing a beat. 

“I can’t believe you were sent out to get food—“

“Maybe the best French food, Enjolras was with him remember!”

“—and you got married instead and left us starving.”

They all bickered for a moment in which Combeferre realized he was the only one to understand how complicated this was going to get. He knew his friends-- _ had _ known them for years, he knew exactly how this was going to go. 

“So, what are we going to do?” Enjolras asked once everyone had had their fill of jokes and shaming them for superficial things. 

“You’re going to have to go down to the court house and fix it.” Bahorel laughed, looking at Combeferre incredulous. 

“Right. So. Grantaire want to go down after breakfast?”

Combeferre got up and left to go back to the other hotel room to shower and start packing up. Courfeyrac was whispering, sounding amused, but he didn't look back. 

 

* * *

 

B y the time Combeferre left the room again, Grantaire and Enjolras were gone. A couple of the others were off running errands--Courfeyrac was mailing a postcard, Feuilly was getting snacks, Éponine and Muschetta were grabbing some last minute souvenirs--so it was relatively quiet as they packed up their two rental cars (Bossuet was currently trapped in the elevator but he had a cooler and Joly with him and they were enjoying their excuse to only take one trip to the cars). 

Combeferre led the way as Bahorel let Marius ride piggyback down to the parking lot and put him in charge of rocking sunglasses, smiling at everyone, and pulling up a playlist. He went above and beyond his duties by also sipping on some iced coffee (read: a cup of coffee that went cold so they made a pit stop to the ice machine and threw some ice cubes in to give the cup second life). 

Bahorel frowned as he tried to stack their bags into the cars. They had a Chevy Suburban and a Nissan Rogue and unless someone wanted to ride the three hours to the Grand Canyon with bags piled on them, they were going to have to get better at packing. They had _just_ enough room for everyone as it was. Combeferre had wanted to get a giant van to pack everyone in but Bahorel, Courfeyrac _and_ Jehan had protested and they had to settle on the two smaller SUVs. The Chevy sat eight and the Nissan held five and once you added at least one bag per person (Cosette had three of various sizes, they had a small cooler for each car and not to mention all the snack and souvenir bags that literally littered the cars), Combeferre was honestly thinking about renting a trailer before they left the city. It’d give them more legroom at least. Although, he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t take it as a challenge to fill it up. 

“Where the fuck’s Grantaire?” Bahorel said, pulling Musichetta’s bag out and tossing it to Combeferre at the other car, “he’s the one who’s good at this.” Bahorel shut the back of the car--nothing else was going to fit without blocking the line of sight out the window. 

“Do you think we’re going to have to hunt them down?” Feuilly asked, returning with several bags of American junk food and some McDonald’s hash browns for Marius. He didn't look too carefully as Feuilly handed it over but he was pretty sure Marius shed a tear or two.  

Combeferre leaned on the car after squeezing Musichetta’s bag in a gap that left it half hanging from the car, “for their sake, I hope not. They better be in and out.”

“I'm not sure if it's even legally binding?” Feuilly said, offering Combeferre a sip of his coffee as he took Musichetta’s bag back out, shuffled a couple around and then fit hers and Grantaire’s back in the same spot. Combeferre fist-bumped him as he relinquished the coffee. Feuilly winked. 

“Oh no it is.” Bahorel said, sitting in the driver's seat of the Chevy, “they were surprisingly thorough. We checked while you were trying to drown yourself in the shower. They even had it sent back to France. It’s  _ legit _ .” 

Combeferre pinched the bridge of his nose and then went to do a final sweep of the rooms with Feuilly. 

Returning to the lobby with two phone chargers, a pair of Bossuet’s shoes, three things of Cosette’s eyeliner and all of Courfeyrac’s toiletries which had been left in the shower, Combeferre was relieved to see Courfeyrac and Grantaire checking out for them. 

“How’d it go?” Feuilly asked, sliding up next to them. Combeferre however, suddenly realized he hadn’t seen Jehan in a while so he took the nearly-forgotten items and went out to the cars. Enjolras was loitering at the doorway but didn’t say anything as Combeferre passed, too engrossed with his phone. 

Jehan was buried in the backseat under several sweaters, headphones in, eyes closed and everyone else was hanging about getting ready for their drive. Joly and Bossuet immediately bounded over to show off the selfies they had taken with the firemen who had been called to free them from the elevator (Combeferre was slightly surprised he had missed the commotion) and then got caught up playing rock, paper, scissors to see who would be riding in which car.

Everything was going so smoothly as they all piled into the cars and got ready to leave that Combeferre wasn’t even surprised when Enjolras gasped right as Courfeyrac was shutting the passenger side door. 

“Oh shit, we forgot to nullify the marriage certificate.”

Joly, who was seated next to him, turned pointedly, “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘get divorced’.”

Enjolras scrunched up his nose and Combeferre fucking knew this was coming. He had known Enjolras when his parents went through their messy, scandalous, very public divorce. He had been right at his side as his mother started the downward spiral she never recovered from. He knew how he blamed his father for it and now here they fucking were. 

Courfeyrac, currently sitting shot gun, peered back at both Enjolras and Grantaire in the backseat. “What the fuck did you two do at the courthouse?”

“Well, we might have gotten desert.” Grantaire said without looking up from where he was digging around in his bag. 

Combeferre met Joly’s gleeful eye and rested his head on the back of the seat, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “For breakfast?” 

“Yeah.” 

Bahorel beeped loudly as he pulled out from the spot next to them and headed off towards the road. Combeferre just silently followed him as Courfeyrac started messing with the radio. 

Joly elbowed Enjolras in the stomach as he went spotted Cosette looking at him in the car next to them. She laughed and then pulled Feuilly over to the window and he stuck his tongue out. Courfeyrac left some horrid pop song in as he rolled down his window to shout at Bahorel who just screamed at the sight of him. Someone violently kicked his seat. 

They lost the other car the moment they left Vegas city limits. Courfeyrac and Joly complained they could no longer make faces at their friends but it was fine; they had vague plans to meet up for a late lunch in an hour and then from there it should only be another hour at most until they reached the Grand Canyon, where they were going to stay for the second half of their trip. 

 

* * *

 

When they pulled into a rest stop about twenty minutes later (with Joly and Courfeyrac peering at all of the other cars looking for their friends), Courfeyrac volunteered to take over driving. 

Joly frowned as they climbed out of the car, “You’re going to have to take them off before you get gangrene, you know.”

“Let me show off for a little bit.” Grantaire argued lightly, waving his left hand absently as he sauntered off to undoubtedly grab a handful of brochures.  The doors were already jammed packed with flyers for places they certainly weren’t going to. 

“Show off to who?” Enjolras sighed. 

Grantaire flashed his ring at a middle-aged man in a trucker hat as they passed each other. “I just got married,” he told them in heavily-accented English. 

“Oh. Congratulations?” the man said, looking perplexed and a little like he didn’t know if he should be offended or not. Grantaire smiled and continued on his way. 

“If anyone picks a fight at a rest area I swear to god I’m leaving them there.” 

“Is that a warning?” Enjolras asked, a small smile on his face. Combeferre nodded and then went off to find himself another coffee. Joly tagged along, asking him how many he’d had already. Combeferre honestly didn't quite know other than  _ not enough _ . 

When they made their way back to the car only Courfeyrac was there messing with the radio. Joly narrowed his eyes but as they climbed into the car, Grantaire and Enjolras walked out of the building heading towards them. They were walking a little briskly but they didn’t look like they had gotten into an argument with anyone. They both just looked a bit flustered. 

“I get the front,” Enjolras said, a bit breathlessly. Good let the fact that he married and refused to divorce his crush before they could have an actual adult conversation bother him.  

Courfeyrac glanced to him and Combeferre smirked as an idea started to form and he started a message to everyone in the other car and carefully laid out his plan. 

Their friends had gotten married sometime in the last twenty four hours after all and what kind of friends would they be if they let it go unmarked?

They had about twenty minutes of blissful silence when they got back on the road and then Joly kicked Grantaire, “Why are you still wearing that?”

“I’m married.”

“You were drunk.”

“You do a lot of things when you’re drunk, does that negate them?”

Joly twisted around in his seat and frowned, “I want to believe being wasted negates the time you and my boyfriend had sex.” 

Courfeyrac dutifully gasped dramatically and Enjolras raised an eyebrow. Combeferre asked Bossuet about it over the group text. 

Bossuet sent back a bee emoji. 

Grantaire reached forward, took Enjolras’ hand and held it between his own, “I'm married now so all that's in the past.”

Combeferre filed away the emoji to ask about at a later time when he wouldn't be trapped in a car with Grantaire, Joly, Enjolras, and Courfeyrac. No offence to his friends or anything but all four of them tended to react before thinking when it came to relationships and he wasn’t feeling it today. 

 

* * *

 

At some point he must have fallen asleep because he woke up with Grantaire’s feet in his lap and Courfeyrac sitting next to him, drinking something purple from a water bottle. He glanced up ahead and Joly was now driving. 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Heavily” was all Courfeyrac said and Combeferre looked to Grantaire who had the decency to look guilty. 

“Why?” 

“Just be glad you were asleep for it.” Enjolras said in a tone that made it wholly impossible for him to tell if there had been a real fight or just teasing. 

Combeferre could vaguely remember someone shouting but he was also vaguely sure it had been Bahorel so he scanned the rest of his friends, Joly was humming along with the radio nonplussed and Enjolras looked a little bemused by the whole thing. Courfeyrac twisted around so only Combeferre could see his phone screen. And, actually, that was his phone not Courfeyrac’s.

His friend just shrugged before he could say anything, “I think mine is with Jehan?” 

Grantaire’s head whipped around at the mention of Jehan and Courfeyrac dumped his legs onto the floor. He didn’t look away as he repositioned them back onto Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s laps a moment later. 

On the screen, he caught a glimpse of a conversation with Jehan that Courfeyrac clicked out of quickly, it looked a bit serious but he had faith they’d figure everything out. Courfeyrac then pulled up the group chat and Combeferre smiled. 

“What the fuck.” Grantaire whispered and Enjolras glanced back to them. 

“Combeferre…” he said carefully noticing the expression on his face and Combeferre just ignored them as he updated himself on their plans. 

Five minutes later, Enjolras was glancing around suspiciously, “Why are we stopping?”

“Rest Area. Gotta stop.” Courfeyrac chirped, pushing Grantaire off his lap and finally putting the lid back onto the water bottle. He didn’t know what he was drinking but he was well on his way to tipsy already. 

“That’s not a rule.”

“Gotta stop. Lost the others. Need lunch too.” Joly chimed in, smiling so broadly he was pretty sure Enjolras and Grantaire were going to guess something was up. 

“What do you mean you lost the others?” Enjolras twisted around in his seat and peered out the back window. Grantaire titled his head out of the way and Enjolras made a face at him. 

“Oh did we catch up with them?” 

“Yeah, Bossuet said to tell you the bee means Hufflepuff.” 

That made even less sense and Combeferre decided to just never question it. Joly parked by the picnic tables away from the main building and turned the car off. “Everyone out and stretch your legs.” 

Everyone got out except for Combeferre and Courfeyrac who turned to him and said, “they have everything and they’re catching up now, we’re about a half hour away from the canyon and Joly took a detour or two to buy them some time. I don’t think they noticed.” 

“What happened between you and Grantaire.” 

“He’s trying to start shit with me and Jehan to distract from how badly he fucked up.”

“And you’re drinking because…?”

“He’s not wrong but we’re going to deal with it and it’s not going to fuck with the rest of the trip.” 

“Let me know if you need a moderator?” 

“If you're looking for a threesome all you have to do is ask.” Courfeyrac said, a little stressed but mostly teasing. 

Combeferre rolled his eyes fondly, “if you’re okay, wake me when they get here.” 

Courfeyrac smiled, nodded, and left him alone just in time for Enjolras to open the door and drag him out anyway to sit at a picnic table, handing him a bottle of water. 

The other car showed up twenty minutes later and they could hear Bahorel’s laughter before they saw him. He emerged from the backseat with a cardboard box. “Are you nerds ready for this?” he called, walking over to their table.

He carefully reached into the box and pulled out a three tiered cake.

Upon closer inspection, it looked like three different sized grocery store cakes all piled atop each other. The top tier was actually a cupcake that hadn’t quite survived the removal of it’s wrapper. A cake topper was stuck into it proudly proclaiming  _ We Do _ . 

“Oh my god.” Courfeyrac gasped as if he had never seen anything so marvelous in his life. He tilted to the side a little and so Combeferre got up to drag him over to the table and shared his water bottle with him. 

“What is this?” Grantaire asked, his sunglasses slightly askew from where he propped his face up with his hands. 

“Your wedding reception!” Cosette cheered, walking over with her arms filled with plastic bags.

Enjolras looked distinctly like he wanted to get on the next available flight out of the country. 

Jehan swooped from the car, looking a little bit like all he wanted was to go back to sleep but he was in a decidedly cheerful mood and he dragged Courfeyrac off towards the building. They were both laughing as they went off, almost but not quite holding hands. 

Éponine carefully laid a table cloth down and Bahorel placed his cake, pulling his hands away with a flourish. Enjolras glanced around him as if to make sure he wasn’t the only one seeing this. Feuilly and Marius brought out an impressive four large bags of Taco Bell take away, and Éponine dug out some small plates with rings and doves on them and set the table, “everything else was too heteronormative,” she whispered when she caught Combeferre eyeing them. Since he made contact with her, Éponine tossed some silver plastic utensils and put him in charge of setting the tables (they had to take over two to fit everyone and Bahorel and Bossuet had actually tried to lift the other one to move it closer before they realized it wasn’t going to budge). As he stood, Feuilly artfully scattered some poker chips onto the table. 

“Those better not be real.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Joly smiled, appearing from wherever he and Musichetta had disappeared to with several gift bags. “Don’t worry, you and Courfeyrac got them something from the both of you.”

“Did we?” he asked, not even wanting to know what kind of gift they could possibly have picked up for them. He wasn’t quite sure if the others remembered they had both a transcontinental  _ and _ transatlantic flight waiting for them at the end of the week.  

Musichetta hung a couple tissue paper pom poms and some diamond ring decorations in the trees above them and someone had stung some lace triangle bunting up as well. Hopefully they’d be able to take a couple pictures before someone came over to tell them to take it all down. When Combeferre got back to the table it was to see Bossuet convincing Grantaire to take a selfie with him and the photo booth props Enjolras was blankly putting together. Combeferre thought he might have been enjoying himself a little and Grantaire’s cheeks were flushed as he tried to decide what kind of expression he wanted for the picture. They ended up with several. 

Cosette pulled out plastic champagne glasses the moment Courfeyrac and Jehan came back from the vending machines.

“Did you buy everything?”

“Not yet. We gotta go back.” Jehan told him before he broke down into giggles.

Éponine grabbed the energy drinks and began filling the champagne flutes.

“Wait—we got alcohol.”

“We can’t drink alcohol at an America rest area they’ll arrest us.”

Feuilly frowned and then walked back to the car with one of the bags. Cosette pulled Marius over to the car and the three of them wrote  _ Just Married!! _ on the back window of both the rental cars.

Courfeyrac bodily sunk down next to Enjolras on the bench and started tearing into one of the burritos. 

Sliding up next to him, Musichetta took a quick selfie of her and Combeferre and then she started snapping away at all their hard work. Combeferre was actually impressed. They ate the take away all while trying to badger the story out of Enjolras and Grantaire of what  _ really _ happened in that Taco Bell. Enjolras started saying something about forgetting his rum Freeze in the VIP room but Grantaire shushed him. 

“Yo what the fuck.” Bahorel began and Grantaire pulled out his phone to show him some pictures. He gasped, “this IS where Persephone would be spending her warm months.” 

Jehan protested and when the phone passed Feuilly he went, “Oh! You posted that to instagram and I was wondering where that was.” 

“The big glowing taco didn’t tip you off?” 

“Enjolras’ hair was in the way.” 

Enjolras’ head sunk down onto the table and he didn’t lift it again until the table had been cleared and they were ready to cut the cake. 

“Listen just do the pose and we’ll let you go.” Courfeyrac threatened. His good mood had taken a nosedive at some point but it was beyond Combeferre as to what had set him off. Enjolras and Grantaire shuffled into position, holding a tiny plastic fork to cut the cake. They did just as a minivan pulled up near them and Enjolras sliced the cake so quickly, he nearly toppled the cupcake from it’s spot. He sank back down into his seat as Cosette took over cutting the cake up for everyone. 

Grantaire got the cupcake. “Courf, how drunk are you right now?” he asked around a mouthful of icing. 

“Shut up and give me one of those cakes.”

“You can’t eat an entire cake.” Combeferre sighed but Cosette carefully took the second layer off and handed it to him. 

“Fucking watch me,” he all but snarled and then, in the same breath said, “Enjolras we can share.” He slid the cake over a quarter of an inch towards Enjolras who picked up one of the plastic forks and dug in. Enjolras was hyper aware of the stares they were getting from the parking lot but was doing his best to focus on the cake. 

“Not to be a buzzkill but--”

“Thank God.” Enjolras and Grantaire said at the same time, both obviously thinking they had to get back on the road, but Musichetta continued. 

“We’re going to have to open presents while we eat cake. We’re going to miss the sunset if we take much longer.” 

Grantaire whispered something under his breath that made Enjolras laugh but Feuilly jumped up from his seat at the other table and jogged over, “Here. This one’s from me.”

Enjolras opened the grocery bag wrapping paper and raised his eyebrows. Grantaire took the book from his hands, “Holy shit, Feu, is this a fucking wedding album?”

“Yep. Ordered it online, picked it up at a nearby CVS.”

“It’s half from my Instagram so you’re also welcome.”

“Courfeyrac shut up and eat more cake.”

“No wait, have some of this granola bar.” Joly waved it at him but Courfeyrac just swatted in his direction. 

“I don’t want fucking granola right now. I have this entire cake.” 

Combeferre leaned around him and Jehan to see the album and it was hilarious. It was a very classy album, with classy clipart adorning the pages but everything else was neon lights and shot glasses. However, even with the slight blur to some of the pictures, Feuilly had managed to find several cute ones including the one on the cover where Grantaire and Enjolras were blatantly looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. 

“Enjolras…are you crying?” Grantaire said, glancing up as he turned a page and Enjolras sniffed and ate another large forkful of cake. Feuilly smiled, proud that he liked the gift so much. 

Everyone took turns throwing their gifts at them. Some, like Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta’s, were tucked into gift bags complete with tissue paper, others, like Éponine’s were wrapped in plastic shopping bags. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta got them novelty condoms, ibuprofen, jarred marshmallow fluff and chocolate sauce (Grantaire broke out into giggles that lasted straight through Bahorel’s gift of several cans of red Red Bull and a disgusting amount of Wonka candy). Jehan got them a collection of ghost stories and another book that Enjolras looked strangely touched over but Combeferre couldn’t make out what it was because it was at that point one of the hanging decorations fell onto Bossuet and gave him a papercut right on the side of his head so Combeferre dragged him off to patch him up. They listened as they opened Marius’ and Cosette’s gift, apparently an album called  _ Greatest Wedding Hits _ and Marius couldn’t stop laughing as he explained the track listing. 

They returned as Enjolras was unwrapping Éponine’s gift and immediately he froze and shoved it into Grantaire’s hands. Grantaire finished unwrapping it and laughed, “Ep! How’d you know this was my favorite kind.” Enjolras immediately went red and several phones came up to take a picture of him. He muttered something under his breath and Courfeyrac laughed. The presents looked like they were lifting his mood again. He handed his and Combeferre’s gift over, it was tucked into a gift bag with a glittery rainbow on the side and Enjolras opened it like he fully expected it to be another sex toy (for that was undoubtedly what Enjolras’ blush had been about). Instead it was just a  _ Calm the Fuck Down  _ coloring book, some colored pencils and a toothbrush holder. 

“Every married couple needs one!” Courfeyrac smiled and Combeferre couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his friends faces. They thanked everyone quietly and Combeferre dug into the cake Enjolras and Courfeyrac were still sharing. Jehan was now leaning against Courfeyrac who had his arm wrapped around him and Combeferre couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Joly lunge at the ring and Grantaire  _ screamed _ .

The entire table jumped and a family in a car nearby peered over at them. 

“He’s trying to steal me away from you! Help!” Grantaire called as Joly wrestled him off the bench and onto the grass. 

Enjolras steadily ignored him and took another bite of cake. Courfeyrac hid his smile by taking another forkful of cake as well. Jehan buried his face into his shoulder, giggling wildly.

“Bossuet help!” 

“Your reception has already tried to take me out once I won’t give it the chance to do so again.” he said, even as Musichetta climbed to her feet. Bossuet quickly swiped the rest of her cake. 

Joly was no match for his girlfriend and he went with her willingly, although he glared at Grantaire, still on the ground, as he went. 

“Whose idea was this really?” Grantaire asked, pushing himself up on his elbows. Bossuet and Courfeyrac pointed to Combeferre and Grantaire’s eyebrows shot up, “What, really?” 

“What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t celebrate your wedding?” he shrugged. 

Enjolras blushed, shoveling cake into his mouth. “You two are seriously going to be sick.” Feuilly told them, checking the time on his phone. Combeferre pushed himself up to help the others clean and he swiped the cake from his friends. 

Both of them pouted at him and he just rolled his eyes, “you can eat more in the car.” Honestly, he thought they might. 

Right when they packed the last of their things up, an attendant in an state transport car drove by. He glanced at them, brows furrowed, but didn’t stop. 

“That’s because I had no part of this!” Bossuet sang, “You’re welcome!” Cheerfully, he skipped off towards the cars, completely empty handed. 

“You can ride with us. Hopefully the separation will convince you to not chuck them over the edge of the canyon.” Cosette told him tugging him into the Chevy with her. 

Courfeyrac made a show at being offended but then Musichetta went to ride in the other car and he settled down. “See you at the Grand Canyon!” Joly called out the window and then both cars were off. 

“Bahorel hasn’t stopped laughing, just so you know. He’s been roasting them nonstop.” Feuilly said as they pulled back out onto the highway. 

Combeferre shrugged, “they deserve it.” 

“I want to see you destroy them.” 

Shrugging again, Combeferre tugged his seatbelt on and leaned against Marius who was laughing at whatever someone had posted to Instagram, “I just want everyone to know, I think the reason they didn’t get divorced this morning is because Enjolras’ parents went through a really messy divorce when we were kids.” 

The car got quiet, although Marius snorted a little and then glanced, stricken, to Combeferre. He just sent him a tight lipped smile and leaned back into him.

“Who else knows about his parents?” Bahorel asked carefully as Bossuet sighed. 

“Courfeyrac probably? I don’t think he ever explained just how messy it was but Courfeyrac has an unnatural ability to know things.” 

Jehan sighed, nodding a little to himself, but Bossuet leaned over, “I’ll talk to Grantaire and we won’t make fun of them for breaking it off.” 

“Yeah, I’m not going to stop roasting them but we’ll keep an eye on Enjolras and won’t tease them for that part.” 

Combeferre nodded and Jehan spoke from his nest of sweaters, “they’re so cliche it should be criminal.” 

“Are you alright?” He asked and Jehan instantly went to the heart of why he was asking. 

“Someone should tell Grantaire I’m going to drain his blood and drink it.” 

Marius dug around at his feet and pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it off. Jehan accepted it and then vanished into an oversized sweater. 

After a moment's pause to make sure they wouldn't provoke Jehan, Bossuet spoke, his voice soft, “Should I call the hotel and see if we can get the honeymoon suite?” 

“If it’s not that much more expensive.” 

“They paid for everything with my card so I stole both of theirs so it’s fine if it is.” Bahorel told him flatly. 

At this Combeferre laughed, “seriously?” 

“You were asleep when we bumped into you guys at a rest stop and R gave the card back.” 

“Yeah, I thought I remembered screaming, and I also missed whatever he did to send Courfeyrac on his mission to get wasted in the backseat.” 

Jehan muttered something and Cosette put her finger to her lips to silence him. 

“Yeah but it’s fine, he won five thousand US dollars at the casinos.” Éponine had her feet kicked up on the dashboard and was drinking soda through a novelty straw. 

“Seriously?” 

Bahorel shrugged, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I think it was on Blackjack?” 

“You think?” 

He glanced at him through the rear-view mirror, “you’re not a shining example of good decisions either.” 

Combeferre smile and squinted as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. 

Cosette immediately started giggling, “I’ve never seen you so hung over before.” 

Combeferre just stole her sunglasses and went to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

He didn't wake up until they pulled into their hotel and Cosette accidentally hit him with a suitcase as she tugged it from the car. 

“Sorry.” She winced. 

“Oh are we here?” 

“Yeah. Sunset is in about an hour so we have time to drop our things off first.” 

Combeferre climbed out of the car and took the bags from Cosette as Feuilly called her over to the other car. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure who’s bags he actually had but they’d be able to figure it out later so he just headed up to their room (the honeymoon suite, according to a  _ very  _ gleeful Joly who he met as he bounded down the stairs with Éponine). 

He didn’t spare where everyone was much thought until he neared the open doorway and Grantaire’s voice drifted out. 

“Um, you know we’re not your parents right? That we just got wasted and got married because of how hilarious we thought it would be? There’s no til death do we part, just til we sober up and send the paperwork in.” 

Combeferre nearly slipped with the force of stopping short, of all the conversations to walk in on. But at least Bossuet worked fast. 

“I know. I'm sorry. I just panicked and couldn't get my father's face out of my mind, he'd be so gleeful I fucked up a marriage more than him.” 

“I mean it's been a pretty good couple hours?” 

Enjolras laughed softly, “ _ Grantaire. _ ” 

“We could stay together for a while to show your father up.”

“I'm not going to force you to stay married to me to prove some kind of point to my father.” 

“Being married to you isn't the worst fate I could think of.” 

Enjolras sighed and Combeferre could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke, “when we get back….would you want to go out? I mean you don't have to--just because we’re married but--”

There was silence for a moment and Grantaire laughed, “yeah. Let’s go to Floreal’s cafe and then see where the night takes us.” 

“What do you mean by that.” 

“I mean whatever you want it to.” 

“...I hate you.” 

“That’s not what you said in the Taco Bell VIP room.” 

Despite himself, Combeferre laughed at that and then walked into the room. 

“How much of that did you hear?” 

“Just that last bit.” he lied, and Enjolras didn’t believe him but he sat down on the bed all the same. 

Grantaire just shifted his weight from one leg to the other and crossed his arms, “Do Courfeyrac and Jehan still want to kill me.” 

Combeferre shrugged, “last I heard Jehan was out for your blood.” 

He immediately turned to Enjolras, “We’re married, you have to protect me.” 

“I'll protect you if you do the same for me. Your sister has already called me seven times.” 

“She hasn't called me!” 

“Well she's called me seven times and--”

“Do not answer. In fact, just turn your phone off now. Where is it?” he started reaching for Enjolras pockets and he swatted him away, a small smile on his face.  

“Your parent’s are going to  _ kill _ you Grantaire.” Combeferre told him matter-of-factly, he could vividly see his mother’s outraged face and by the way Grantaire went ashen, he could tell he could too. 

Combeferre put the bags on the bed and then turned to walk back out. 

“Have you seen Courfeyrac?” Enjolras asked, stopping Combeferre in his tracks. 

“No I just woke up.” 

Grantaire laughed and Enjolras rolled his eyes, grabbing Combeferre by the arm and leading him out of the room. They walked in silence until they got to the stairs and Grantaire didn’t follow them. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Hungover and feeling exponentially stupid for marrying-- _ Grantaire-- _ ” there was a world of meaning in the way he said his name, the hundred things he never spoke out loud but felt all the same. Hopefully he finally said some of those at Taco Bell but given how lopsided both of their grins had been in all their selfies, who knew if any of the much-needed words were even remembered. Combeferre shut his eyes and they turned to go down another flight of stairs and breathed in deep. He opened them to see Enjolras fidgeting with the ring on his finger. “But, it’s fine.” 

“Fine?” Combeferre asked, and Enjolras glanced to him, a small smile on his lips, looking almost guilty. 

“We’ll take care of it when we get home. Probably.” 

Combeferre came to a stop at the ground floor landing, he could hear Bossuet and Jehan laughing about something outside but Enjolras didn’t open the door, he just looked back at him. “Probably? Enjolras, you can’t go from sometimes making out when you’re drunk and then avoiding each other for months to married. That’s not healthy for either of you.” 

“We’re not  _ married _ .” Enjolras said and Combeferre sighed. 

“You are. You’re married. Legally. Emotionally, you literally  _ just  _ asked him out. You’re both  _ just _ figuring out that your feelings are requited. None of us want to see either of you hurt and I know you two don’t want to hurt each other.” 

“Well of course--” 

“But I’m just so afraid that both of you are going to get hurt because of this. When we get back home and things go back to normal, you’re still going to be married and--”

“We’ll be alright it doesn’t mean any--” Enjolras abruptly cut himself off and then fidgeted with the ring again, “Okay, so, maybe, I think it probably does mean  _ something  _ but...we’ll be okay. We’ll talk it out. I’ll try to stop assuming what he’s thinking and I’ll stop assuming he knows what I mean.”  He shut his eyes and laughed, it was little more of a sigh but he was smiling. “I’m still not sure if I’m going to be sick or not, I think last night ruined rum and slushies for me forever.” 

“If you drank after you left the hotel room then we’re all probably lucky you didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning.” 

“America was a mistake.” Enjolras sighed and for the first time today, Combeferre felt his friend had a handle on what was going on. “Also you have a perfect kiss mark on your cheek and someone drew a grumpy face on your forehead.” 

Combeferre loved his friends. He really did. He repeated it to himself as they went out to the cars and Bahorel and Cosette giggled to themselves at the sight of him. Courfeyrac appeared from thin air and whisked Enjolras away citing something they had previously been discussing and Combeferre purposefully blocked their words out. He didn’t even  _ want _ to know. 

He went over to the car and dug around for some trail mix Jehan had stashed away in his bag. 

“You thief.” Jehan pouted appearing suddenly once Combeferre found the bag and went to lean against the car. He handed Jehan a handful and the two snacked for a moment in silence. 

Then Bossuet sauntered over from god knows where and carefully stole a couple pumpkin seeds. “Is Grantaire in the room, I should go talk to him before Enjolras gets back.”

“Wait, I thought you already told Grantaire?” 

“No.” Bossuet said then frowned, suspicious, “Why do you say that?” 

“I heard him talking about it with Enjolras.” 

Bossuet looked incredibly touched, “they grow up so fast.” 

“How did Grantaire find out about it?” 

“They’re not actually as bad as we think.” Jehan told them like he had some insider knowledge of their friend’s relationship. Doubtful, seeing as the very moment he realized Cosette and Marius were on a date, he had actually skyped everyone in turn to gossip. “I think they actually slept together before.” 

“Oh great so they’re  _ worse _ than we think.” Bossuet sighed. 

“I don’t think they need as much help as you think they do.” 

“They literally got married in Vegas without actually discussing their feelings--which they obviously have for each other--all of us could cite twenty different situations where they made that abundantly clear and--”

“Shhh…” Jehan said, pressing a finger to Combeferre’s lips. “I know you worry but we’re on vacation. You need to relax.” 

“They’re actually, literally, married.” 

“They’ll be fine--you’ll see.” Jehan said cryptically and Combeferre nearly wanted to ask him if he was secretly a prophet. “What kind of bird is that flying over there? It looks like it might be a cousin of yours, L'Aigle.” 

They all turned to squint at the sky and by the time they decided that it was a bald eagle and Joly managed to get a picture of it and Bossuet together (Joly renamed his picture album on Facebook L’Aigle Family Reunion 2017 in honor of it), it was time to head back out. 

 

* * *

 

The sun shone golden as it started to dip behind the horizon, flooding the canyon with light. Cosette took Combeferre’s hand on one side and Enjolras and Grantaire spoke softly to each other on his right. Enjolras sounded impossibly fond. Jehan was probably right, they’d be fine. He worried too much. 

“Where’s Bossuet?” Grantaire asked suddenly but he was tucked away between Joly and Musichetta by the cars, safely away from the cliffs.  

“Where are Bahorel and Feuilly?” Éponine asked a moment later, glancing around from where she had Feuilly’s flannel pulled around her like a blanket. 

“They’re seeing a man about a raft for tomorrow I think.” 

“Already?” 

“They’re really invested in this alright? They already claimed Combeferre. You can kayak right?”

Combeferre smiled, “Are we rafting or kayaking?” 

“Last I heard it was both.” 

Combeferre smiled again, of course it was, and turned to Enjolras, “You’re coming with us right?” 

“I'm not!” Courfeyrac chirped happily. 

“I know you’re not. I know you and Prouvaire are going hiking alone.”

“I don't like how you said hiking.” Courfeyrac said carefully while Jehan just twirled his hair next to him, the picture of deceitful innocence.  

Combeferre rolled his eyes but they didn’t need him to play peacekeeper (Grantaire and Jehan might but he didn’t even know what they were actually ‘fighting’ about), “Joly, do you have any ibuprofen?”

“Do you  _ still _ have a headache?” he sighed as Musichetta called over, “How hungover  _ are  _ you?”

“If you’re not better tomorrow, Bahorel and Feuilly are going to be so upset.” 

Combeferre just ignored the lot of them. “Does anyone have an ibuprofen on them or not?”

“Here. And some chocolate.” Joly untangled himself from his boyfriend and girlfriend and walked over to him. 

“Excuse me, that’s my wedding gift.” Enjolras deadpanned and Joly laughed, snapping off a piece of the bar and handing it to him. Enjolras in turn broke that piece in two and pushed half of it into Grantaire’s mouth. 

“Are you going rafting with us?” Combeferre asked, glancing over to Éponine. 

She nodded and Cosette’s eyes lit up, “I’m so excited. It’s going to be so much fun down in the middle of all this.” 

“I’m not decided yet,” Marius sighed.

“We need an even amount. You can ride with me if you think Cosette’s going to be too enthusiastic and dump you.” 

“Do we  _ have _ to ride doubles?” Cosette asked and then Grantaire chimed in with how he and his husband were riding double and Enjolras attempted to bribe the women with candy to take him instead. 

Their laughter rang out around him and Combeferre shut his eyes against the last warm rays of the sun. His headache was finally subsiding. 

 

* * *

 

Ironically, exactly one month later, Combeferre woke up extremely hungover again. This time he was on Courfeyrac’s couch and it was half past seven in the evening. 

“He  _ is _ alive.” Bossuet whispered loudly and Combeferre would have thrown his pillow at him if he hadn’t been so comfortable. 

“Here.” Feuilly passed him a glass of water. He didn’t look much better then him and honestly, that’s what they got for trying to outdrink his sisters at brunch. 

Grantaire and Prouvaire shouldered the door open and everyone made a point of cheering softly. Jehan frowned in sympathy but Grantaire didn’t spare anyone a glance. His left hand hovered over his jacket pocket, his ring finger still looked a little discolored from the reaction he had had to the cheap metal and he strode across the room to Enjolras, who had been suspiciously quiet all day now that he thought about it. 

Grantaire paused at the table and put a small box down in front of Enjolras. “Happy one month anniversary,” he winked.

Enjolras reached into his pocket and pulled out a near identical ring box. He slid it across the table towards Grantaire who hummed, obviously touched, and then Enjolras laughed, “happy anniversary.”

“Holy  _ shit _ ” Courfeyrac whispered and Combeferre knew before he even glanced to him that there were tears in his eyes.

“You know normal people date first, right?” Feuilly called. Grantaire lazily flipped him off. Combeferre leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. 

It could still blow up in their faces but they were happy and communicating and that’s all Combeferre could ask for. When it came down to it, it was their decision to make and all he could do was support them. He’d be there through the divorce. He’d be there if Grantaire's parents finally found out their son got married without them (the cost of his sister’s silence was ruthlessly high and Combeferre would be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely impressed). He’d be there for a vow renewal that they’d try to pass off as a wedding. He’d be there for them trying to keep the Vegas marriage a secret for the rest of their lives. Although, with the new rings, he didn’t think they’d have to deal with  _ that _ option. 

“You two are honestly ridiculous,” he told the both of them. 

“You’re just jealous.” 

“I’m really not,” he laughed darkly. 

Courfeyrac tossed a pillow at him which Combeferre happily added to his collection. Enjolras laughed as Grantaire sat next to him, elbowing Combeferre’s thigh as he did so. 

They both slipped the new rings on each other’s fingers. Jehan took several pictures of the impromptu ring ceremony and so Combeferre hid his face behind a pillow--he wasn’t going to ruin the pictures with how hungover he looked. The mimosas had been deceptively strong. 

“How are you feeling?” Grantaire asked, peeking under the pillow at him. 

“He’s decided to be the friend that gets absolutely wasted at all our anniversary parties.”

“That’s because we’re all mad none of us were invited to the wedding!” Jehan shouted at him, laughing. 

“No,” Grantaire told the room, his voice a dramatic stage-whisper, “it’s because he’s been devastatingly in love with me from the moment we met!” 

Combeferre laughed despite himself, “you flirted with Enjolras for hours and then got us all kicked out of the bar.” 

“ _ Excuse me _ .” Grantaire said, sounding so genuinely offended that Combeferre wouldn’t be surprised if he had  _ actually _ forgot how they met. 

“That’s exactly what happened. Asked Courfeyrac.”

“Have some granola,” Enjolras said, pulling a bag out from under the table and handing it to him. Combeferre took it silently and started snacking as Enjolras and Grantaire compared and showed off their near-matching rings. He smiled; they both looked so happy he almost didn’t care how they had ended up here. 

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of research went into this fic including but not limited to the legitimacy of Vegas weddings for French citizens, the location of Taco Bells in Vegas (Enjolras and Grantaire go to the [flagship location](https://www.tacobell.com/feed/las-vegas-opening)), and reception decorations/gifts. I also didn't realize Vegas was like two hours away from the Grand Canyon which might be dangerous for future vacation plans lol. 
> 
> Also Grantaire has legitimately ZERO memory of Combeferre being there the night they met.


End file.
